


let me die (i'm not meant to live)

by caydiink (gayleb)



Series: Dream and the various parental figures he manages to collect [6]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse, Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Clay | Dream Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Demonic Possession, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Graphic Description, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Manipulation, Not Beta Read, Torture, Victim Blaming, dream in prison what will he do, this one is rough y'all pls stay safe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:27:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29492805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayleb/pseuds/caydiink
Summary: He never thought it was odd how, even in the dead of night, no light to be seen, his shadow still remained.It stood beneath him, darker than the night around him, following him as he moved.It clung to him in the dead of night, pulling him closer and never letting him go.Dream kept walking, oblivious to what lay just below his feet.AKA Dream has been possessed, and finally comes back to himself in Pandora's Vault. Nightmare won't leave him alone, and Dream starts to believe he deserves this. Also Nightmare is an asshole and we don't stan!!!
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Clay | Dream, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & Sam | Awesamdude, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) & Everyone
Series: Dream and the various parental figures he manages to collect [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2070822
Comments: 42
Kudos: 668





	let me die (i'm not meant to live)

**Author's Note:**

> hello welcome to 27 pages of my 3am bullshit, featuring more Dream angst bc what did u expect :)
> 
> Please read all of the tags and be careful going into this afdhjbdfhgvfdghf if I forgot to tag anything please let me know in the comments and I'll add it immediately.

Dream has never been alone, no matter how much he longed for it.

No matter what he did, where he went or who he spoke to, he always had a shadow trailing behind him, mirroring every step he took and every movement he made.

Everything he was, it was.

It lived beneath him, behind him, above and all around him, but he never truly saw it. It was just a part of him, always there, watching, waiting, following him throughout life.

_(He never thought it was odd how, even in the dead of night, no light to be seen, his shadow still remained._

_It stood beneath him, darker than the night around him, following him as he moved._

_It clung to him in the dead of night, pulling him closer and never letting him go._

_Dream kept walking, oblivious to what lay just below his feet.)_

Here, in the prison cell, rough obsidian pressed against his back, the heat of the lava drying the hair, leaving it hot and unforgiving, unbearable against his dry and cracking skin, Dream wished he was alone.

Dream couldn’t remember when his shadow became reality. When a thing never thought about became everything he was, when the copy of himself, stuck beneath his feet became him, infecting him, taking over everything he had built.

He had known it was coming, somewhere in the depths of his mind. He saw the signs, the nausea, fatigue, memory loss and weakness. He should have fucking _stopped it._

_(He did try to stop it though. He heard Fundy and Tubbo, speaking of the symptoms he had, talk of monsters and possession and every other terrifying that had crossed Dream’s mind up until that moment._

_They spoke of dreamons, and he felt the world come to a halt around him._

_He asked them for an exorcism. Nearly begged after he heard everything that could happen, when a dreamon is left unkempt._

_They easily agreed, excited at the prospect of practicing an exorcism on a real person, no longer pretending._

_At the time, Dream had been beside himself with relief, with gratitude and thanks. He thought they were going to help him. He thought he was going to get better._

_Oh how wrong Dream was.)_

Dream thought the exorcism had worked at first. He nearly sobbed in relief when they told him it was over. It was gone.

But then, that night in his bed, there was a figure above him, smile too wide for it to be human, bones too sharp and eyes too vacant.

It held a twisted, clawed hand out to Dream, mouth never moving, voice cold inside Dream’s mind.

“I have waited long enough,” it said, moving closer, caressing Dream’s arms with its broken fingers, twisting into the fabric of his sweater.

“I have been patient, I have waited for years, and now it is my time to collect,” it said softly.

Dream shivered beneath it’s gaze, but he couldn’t do anything, body frozen in shock or fear, unresponsive no matter how much his mind screamed at him to run.

He watched his shadow crawling closer, grinning impossibly wider as it moved, dread filling his stomach as he could do nothing but watch.

“Welcome home, Dreamie,” it called, and Dream watched his world fade to black as he was forced from his own body.

_(“Stay down, Dream,” it spoke to him, voice cold and forceful, eyes filled with rage._

_Dream pushed against the mind that had invaded his own, trying to claw his way back to the front, trying to regain any semblance of control._

_“Dream,” it growled, forcing him back down._

_His mind flared in pain, forced down into the depths of his own head, pushed further and further away from the world he had left behind._

_“Stay down, Dreamie,” it said, voice soft with false affection that despite how much he hated himself for it made something within his nonexistent chest warm._

_He hated himself every moment he was trapped within himself, unaware of what the demon who had stolen his skin was doing while he was left alone in the void._

_No matter how hard he tried, no matter how he pushed or screamed or cried, he was always pushed back down, away from any hope of begging for help._

_“Stay down, Dream,” it said each time, forcing him further down with every shove, claws digging into his mind, tearing at whatever remained of himself._

_He found himself listening more and more every time, echoes of pain a close memory, what little comfort the dreamon would offer him still fresh in his mind, words of praise each time Dream listened to him, each time he_ stayed down _coursing through his broken head._

_Dream couldn’t find it within himself to hate himself every time he heard those words and sunk further into the depths of his own mind willingly._

_He didn’t have the energy._

_And was it really so bad, giving in? giving up?_

_‘yes,’ his mind whispered, ‘it is. you are weak.’_

_Dream ignored those thoughts, mind fading as he let himself fall, deeper and deeper.)_

Nightmare paced in front of Dream, shoulders tense, footsteps silent as it moved across the obsidian, un affected by the heat from the lava surrounding the cell.

Dream sat in the corner, as far away from the dreamon as possible, knees pulled up to his chest and hands gripping his hair tightly.

The dreamon looked over at Dream and scoffed, walking towards Dream, anger radiating off of it in waves.

“God, you’re fucking pathetic,” it spat, towering over Dream, trying to hide beneath shaking hands as he watched the monster that had ruined his life stand above him, “cowering like a fucking child. What happened to the big strong server admin, huh? Or were you lying to everyone the whole time?”

Dream swallowed, trying to bring any moisture to his mouth, trying to think of a response.

“No…” he said, pulling at his hair. It wasn’t true. Dream hadn’t lied, Dream _wouldn’t_ lie. Not to his friends.

“Just give it up, Dreamie,” it spat, one hand grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him to his feet roughly, “admit that you’re wrong. Say that you’re a fucking liar, and you deserve everything that’s happening.”

“I’m not- I don’t-” Dream said, unable to finish his sentence.

_It isn’t my fault, right?_ he thought frantically, staring into the soulless eyes of the being before him, _I didn’t have a choice._

A clawed finger appeared in front of his face, the pointed tip of the nail aimed directly towards Dream’s eye.

“Say it, Dream,” it said, a smile splitting its face in two as Dream squirmed within its grasp, eyes wide and staring at the claw threatening to strike.

“Say it,” it spat, gripping his shirt tighter, its finger moving forwards, “or I’ll take your fucking eye out.”

Dream sobbed, hands coming up weakly to pull at the dreamon’s wrist, but it made no difference, the hand staying put despite Dream’s efforts.

“I’m a liar,” he sobbed, tears boiling against his skin as they fell, leaving bright red tear tracks in their wake, “I’m a liar and everyone hates me.”

“What else?” it asked, claws digging into the flesh of his cheek, blood spilling down his face, hot and sticky against his dry skin.

Dream couldn’t do anything but sob, choked screams bubbling out of him, limbs shaking and chest heaving as he tried to gasp for breath, tried to pretend he was anywhere but in that prison cell with the monster that had become of him.

Blood stained his shirt, his skin, the obsidian floor beneath him, the monster holding him, everything.

It was all _red._

“I…” Dream trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, his head pounding as the dreamon shook him, “I de-”

He was cut off by a hand hitting his cheek, snapping his head to the side. Dream bit down on his tongue to stop a sob that threatened to spill out at the stinging pain, the taste of blood filling his mouth.

It fell from his lips, staining his chin red, his teeth already covered in the liquid as he choked out the words between his cries.

“I deserve this.”

Dream expected to be hit again. He expected to be shunned, beaten until he couldn’t move, spat upon like the monster he was. The monster he _allowed_ himself to become.

But it never came.

His shirt was dropped suddenly, and Dream went crashing to the floor, palms scraping against the rough obsidian beneath him.

Instead of a slap, Dream felt a calloused hand cupping his cheek gently, a cold thumb wiping through the blood still pouring down his cheek.

“Was that so hard Dream?” Nightmare asked, voice soft and almost caring, a complete shift from the anger it held only a moment before, “all you have to do is listen to me Dream.”

Dream’s eyes shot open, staring up into the masked face of the dreamon, gasping for breath as he tried to wrap his mind around it all.

He pressed his cheek further into Nightmare’s hand, desperate for the contact and relief it brought to his warm skin.

Nightmare watched him for a moment, neither of them moving, before a hand came up to grab Dream’s hair, yanking him closer to the dreamon.

Dream let out a gasp of pain as his face was dragged inches from Nightmare’s, blood smeared across the pitch black mask that rested on its face.

“When I ask you a question,” it spat, pulling again on Dream’s hair bringing tears to his eyes, “I expect an answer. Is that clear?”

Dream choked on another sob, squeezing his eyes shut again, sweat and blood dripping down his face.

“Is that _clear?_ ”

“Yes,” Dream choked out, clawing at the hand gripping his hair, “yes it’s clear I’m sorry please just let me go I understand please-”

Dream was cut off by the hand throwing him down, his back hitting the obsidian roughly, his head slamming into the floor with a loud crack.

His vision swam for a moment as he blinked the blood from his eyes, Nightmare’s form shifting in his vision.

The dreamon stepped closer, stopping next to Dream’s crumpled form, a shadow cast over Dream as he laid there helpless.

“This is going to be so much fun Dreamie,” the dreamon drawled, a hand coated in Dream’s blood coming up to run through Dream’s hair softly, gently tugging at the strands every now and then.

Dream hated how he leaned into the touch desperately. He had gone years without feeling the touch of anyone else, trapped within his own body, alone, unable to hold himself at the very least.

The first time he had gotten full control of his body was while he was thrown into the cell. His legs were shaking beneath him as he remembered how to walk again, rough hands gripping his arms hard enough to bruise.

_’wait!’_ he wanted to call out, _’it wasn’t me,’_ he wanted to scream, _’i’m sorry,’_ he tried to say.

But his mouth wouldn’t move and his throat was dry and his lips were chapped and coated with blood, and before Dream could figure out how to move his arms to push himself off the obsidian floor, whoever put him in here was gone.

Dream sobbed into his arms, wishing they would come back, praying that someone would listen to him, hear him out after years of being forced to be silent.

He didn’t know what the dreamon had done with his body while he was stuck within, but judging by where he was now _(wherever it may be. Dream couldn’t even be sure he was still on the SMP)_ it was nothing good.

“I may have lost the rest of my toys,” the dreamon said, hands still running through his hair gently, claws digging against his skin too much to be truly _comforting,_ but Dream was desperate.

“But at least I have you,” it said, face next to Dream’s as it whispered in his ear, “and we’re going to have so much _fun_ together.”

Dream choked on another cry, blood coating his mouth as he coughed, hands clawing at his own arms hard enough to draw blood.

“Don’t forget Dreamie,” it said, its other hand resting on his neck, a reminder of what it could do.

_(It could snap his neck right now, and no one would care. No one would fucking know._

_He would die, alone and disgraced for things he had no memory of doing, crimes he was unaware he ever committed._

_Dream would die with no one but the dreamon who had done this to him for comfort, dying in the arms of his killer._

_He would die, and no one would mourn him, and he would be forgotten._

_A name not even worth remembering, a stain on the history they would fight oh so hard to preserve._

_Maybe it would be better that way._

_Maybe everyone would be happier._

_It would be so easy._

_Too easy.)_

Dream forced his eyes to open, meeting the blank mask of the dreamon, wondering if this was what everyone else felt when they looked at him.

“I am all you have.”

Dream laid there on the obsidian floor, his own blood pooling beneath him, tears mixing with the blood staining his face, nothing but Nightmare’s laughter and the sound of the lava to fill his mind.

He wanted to scream for someone. He wanted to cry for Sapnap, or George, or bad or techno or fucking _anyone_ to save him from a fate he didn’t know why he deserved.

But Dream was alone, stuck with a nightmare of his own creation.

No one would help him. No one would care.

Nightmare was right.

It was all he had, for better or for worse.

* * *

Days, weeks, months passed by. Dream kept count on one of the walls of his cell, a mark drawn with his own blood every time the clock showed a day had passed.

The obsidian was hot to the touch, lava covering it on all sides, the rock heating up to unbearable degrees. His feet were numb to the pain at this point, bare skin used to the feeling of burning rock beneath them.

At first, Dream had found comfort in the small pools of water he had, dunking his head beneath the surface constantly, relishing in the feeling of water dripping down his skin, cooling him if only for a moment.

_(Sometimes, he would let himself stay there, beneath the surface, choking on the water as he gasped for air, forcing himself to stay submerged._

_He could feel Nightmare’s eyes on him, watching Dream drown himself for the sake of feeling something._

_He hated that it brought Nightmare joy, hated that his pain pleased the being so much, that he was giving in, giving the dreamon what it wanted._

_But god, dying felt so fucking good. He was numb, for just a moment. Free from the oppressive heat of his cell, from Nightmare’s eyes that watched Dream as if he were prey. Nothing more than a slab of meat, something to toy with before eventually devouring._

_He relished the feeling of the water against his skin, so unlike the blood that he found stuck to him more often than not, Nightmare’s claws sharp and unforgiving with each mistake Dream made._

_‘I deserve this,’ he reminded himself each time Nightmare tore into him, ‘I have no one to blame but myself.’_

_If he repeated it enough, as claws tore into his back and his cheek bruised from a slap, maybe he would start to believe it.)_

But then, Dream dunked his head into the cauldron, like he did every day, and he _screamed._

The water was boiling, bubbling beneath him, searing whatever flesh it could reach instantly.

Dream stumbled back from the water, tripping in his panic to get away, skin bubbling as it burned, his hands catching him painfully, broken bones shifting beneath his wait from pounding at the obsidian walls.

He pushed himself back until he hit a wall, knees curling up to his chest, tears streaming down his ruined skin as he screamed in pain.

“Dream,” it said from above him, and he didn’t cower in fear like he usually would, mind filled with the pain radiating from his face and hands, boiling water still dripping from his hair.

“Do you want it to stop hurting, Dream?” it asked him, a hand rubbing painfully at the blisters forming on his face, blood and pus trailing down scarred skin.

Dream could only nod, unable to force words out of his ruined throat, blood spilling from his lips as he choked on the air.

Nightmare’s hand gripped his hair painfully, forcing his head up, eyes staring into Nightmare’s mask, _his mask,_ yet again, a sight he had grown to dread.

“Stand up,” it said, leaving no room for argument.

Dream tried to push himself up on burned, shaking hands as soon as the hand released his hair, trying to pull himself up with the wall.

His nails dug into the obsidian walls, tearing from his fingers as he clawed desperately at the wall, trying to force himself up onto unsteady legs.

He heard Nightmare growl behind him, a foot kicking his side as he cried out, his back hitting the obsidian painfully, bruised ribs groaning beneath the force of the blow.

“Get. Up.”

Dream sobbed as he stood, his hands covered in blood, the skin red either with irritation or blood he couldn’t tell.

He forced himself to his feet, his body shaking under his weight, leaning heavily against the wall to stay upright.

“Good boy,” Nightmare said, a hand caressing the side of his face, thumb wiping away the tears that fell from Dream’s eyes, his ruined skin stinging beneath the touch.

Shame pooled in Dream’s stomach as he leaned into the touch, ignoring the pain that flared in his face at the contact, the need for comfort, to know that he wasn’t _alone_ out weighing the pain.

“Does it still hurt Dream?” Nightmare asked, mouth next to Dream’s ear, a grin audible in its voice.

Dream nodded, more tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he tried not to cry, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

“You want it to stop hurting?” it asked, hand tightening its grip on Dream’s jaw, nails digging into the sensitive skin, more blood staining the already covered flesh.

He couldn’t hold it back this time, his hand too slow to muffle the sob that broke free from his lips, echoing throughout the cell.

Dream froze beneath its grasp, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he waited.

“What the fuck did I say,” Nightmare said, its other hand finding its way into Dream’s hair, holding onto the strands tightly, “about crying out?”

Dream just shook his head, letting out another sob. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t, please someone help anyone please just get him out he’s sorry he’s sorry he’s sorry he’s so-

His head hit the obsidian with a loud crack, blood staining the wall behind him, dripping down the back of his neck, sticking to his hair and the hands that still held it.

“Answer me Dream,” it said, voice filled with rage, mouth set in a snarl beneath the mask.

“It’s n-not allowed,” Dream forced out, his head pounding and ears ringing, and god his face hurt so fucking much he couldn’t _think-_

“Do you think you deserve the pain to stop?” it asked, shoving Dream into the wall, its hand moving from Dream’s face to his neck, not pushing hard enough to bruise, but a threat nonetheless.

Dream shook his head as well as he could, coughing as the hand tightened its grip, fingers digging into his neck as he gasped for air.

“No, sir,” he choked out, taking a deep breath once the hand let go.

The dreamon hummed, watching Dream from behind the mask, eyes hidden and thoughts a mystery to Dream as he could only stand there and wait, blood slowly making its way down his back.

“I’m feeling nice today Dreamie,” it said, the hand still gripping his hair loosening, gently running through the strands, “I can help make the pain go away.”

The touch wasn’t comforting anymore. It felt demeaning, a reminder of his place, of the power that had been stripped from him and the life he’d lost.

Dream nodded, swallowing back bile as he looked up at the dreamon, barely breathing as he waited for it to speak.

“Walk towards the lava,” it said, letting go of Dream and taking a step back, smiling the entire time beneath the mask, teeth glinting in the light of the lava.

Dream took a breath, his bloody hand coming up to grasp at the front of his shirt, twisting the fabric beneath nervous fingers as he began to walk.

_It doesn’t mean you’re weak,_ he thought, the lava drawing nearer, the heat hitting his face making him cringe in pain, _he doesn’t own you, you’re okay, this isn’t weakness it’s survival._

It didn’t feel like survival, standing before the wall of lava, hands coated with his own blood, bare feet burning beneath him as he stood on the heated obsidian.

“You know you want this Dream,” it said from behind him, arms reaching around him to cup his jaw, forcing Dream’s eyes forwards, gazing into the lava that stretched endlessly before him, almost calling to him.

“You’re a fucking coward, you know that, don’t you?” it asked, and Dream nodded as tears streamed silently down his cheeks.

“Good boy Dreamie,” it said, patting his cheek, blood smearing beneath its fingers.

“Now, Dream,” it said, face next to his, breath warm against his already burning skin.

_”Jump.”_

* * *

Dream’s knees hurt beneath him, his pants having torn months ago on the rough stone, the skin of his knees burning against the obsidian as he sat there motionless, hands held carefully in front of him, head down and gaze on the lava in front of him.

He breathed, in and out, shutting his eyes briefly against the harsh lighting of the lava, sweat dripping down his face, soaking his hair and clothes, hot and sticky against his skin.

_(His skin, which was more often bruised and broken than not, blood hot against his flesh and new scars scattered across his skin, his back littered with claw marks._

_They were so similar to the scars from his own nails covering his arms, it made him sick to think about._

_He was not Nightmare. He would not become it, he would not give in. He would_ not. __

_There was dried blood beneath his nails and he was never sure if it was his own, or the memory of his friends’ blood he had spilled, ruthless on the battlefield, even before the possession._

_He used to claw at his own arms, nails dragging across his skin, blood spilling out, drenching his clothes and his cell and his soul as he cried._

_He stopped, when Nightmare held his hands behind his back, dragging him closer to the lava with every slight movement he made. Each time he so much as twitched he was dragged back a few more inches, until finally his hands were submerged._

_Dream had screamed, the flesh of his hands burning within the liquid, the rest of him living on despite how much he despised it._

_“You don’t move unless I tell you to Dream,” it had said to him, holding Dream’s ruined and charred hands in its own as Dream sobbed, gripping his wrists hard enough to bruise._

_He nodded, blinded by the tears gathering in his eyes, pain overtaking him as he shook._

_He didn’t see Nightmare move, he only felt its hands gripping his shoulders, and the feeling of lava hitting his back as his vision went black.)_

No one visited Dream. No one had, and no one ever would. Why would they? He could offer them nothing, give them nothing, do nothing for them.

Why should they care?

_(It still hurt though. It had been so, so long since he had seen any of his friends. He missed them all._

_Would they be different? Older? More mature? Had they grown up without him? Moved on from the family he thought they had become?_

_Dream hoped that maybe someday his questions would be answered._

_He had gotten very familiar with false hope these past few months.)_

Hours passed, nothing but the ticking of the clock to prove to Dream that time was passing.

He sat in the cell, alone, unmoving and unspeaking, trembling with every breath he took as he shut his eyes.

No one visited Dream, and part of him was so relieved at that fact.

They didn’t have to see him like this. Broken, bruised, defeated. They didn’t have to witness everything he had become.

_(He missed his friends. He missed joking with Sapnap, conversation flowing easily between them as they sat together for hours, never getting tired or bored, just being._

_He missed walking with George, nothing but the noise of the forest around them as night fell, the sun setting behind the foliage. They didn’t need to speak, it was just enough being there, together, in that moment._

_He missed baking with Bad. Quiet days spent in, responsibilities forgotten as they took a day to be themselves, no wars, no fighting or violence or eyes watching their every move, it was just them in their house away from the world, and it was enough._

_He wondered what they would say if they saw him now. If they would agree with this punishment, find it just for whatever the dreamon had done with his body._

_Would they protest? Fight, tooth and nail until they freed him?_

_No, he decided, they wouldn’t._

_“You’re a monster,” Sapnap would say, spitting at the man he had once foolishly called brother._

_“You deserve this Dream,” George would say, not even bothering to look at Dream, voice cold and disinterested._

_“It’s all your fault Dream,” Bad would say, his face drawn with concern, pain and regret and guilt behind his eyes, just not for Dream._

_Never for Dream._

_He ignored how, in his mind, their voices sounded like Nightmare’s._

_It didn’t matter whose thoughts they were, they were true no matter what._

_After all, none of them had visited.)_

Dream opened his eyes at the sound of footsteps, keeping his head lowered as he looked at the ground in front of him.

Nightmare stood before him, watching him silently.

They waited in silence, Nightmare unmoving, Dream kneeling before it, body trembling, but otherwise completely still.

“Are you hungry, Dream? it asked, lifting his head with one of its hands, porcelain meeting dulled green.

Dream nodded, keeping his mouth shut. He knew this was a question that wasn’t meant to be answered. He had learned that lesson enough times.

“Then beg,” it said, a grin breaking out beneath the mask, hand tightening around his jaw, fingers digging into flesh hard enough to bruise.

“Please,” Dream said automatically, eyes dull as he spoke, “please, I’m so hungry, I just want to eat, Nightmare please-”

He was cut off by a slap, his cheek stinging, a familiar feeling.

“Stop talking.”

Dream stopped talking.

He waited, listening to the sound of shuffling, eyes trained on the obsidian beneath him.

Nightmare crouched down in front of Dream, holding two raw potatoes in his hands.

“You want ‘em?” it asked.

Dream nodded.

“Go fetch,” it said, throwing the food into the wall of lava behind it, laughing as Dream scrambled forward, trying to reach them before they burned.

Nightmare kept laughing as Dream slid to a stop, chest heaving as he caught his breath, staring at the lava.

“Too bad Dreamie,” it said, standing next to Dream, a hand resting on the top of his head, as if he were some kind of _pet,_ “better luck next time.”

Dream kept staring at the lava, eyes unblinking as he watched it flow down, further and further away from his cell.

He wished he could join it, step into the stream and never come back, washed away for good.

He wanted to drown within its warmth and never resurface.

“Back to your place, Dream,” Nightmare said, smiling sweetly down at Dream.

Dream took one final look at the lava. He could do it. He was close enough. It would take one push, and he would be in.

_(He knew he would respawn. No matter how many times he killed himself, he always respawned._

_He couldn’t escape, Dream was stuck here._

_That didn’t make dying any less appealing, even if it never stuck.)_

Dream crawled back to where he sat before, knees aching and his back sore from holding the position for so long.

He looked at Nightmare, standing in front of the lava, watching Dream, waiting for him.

Dream knelt down again, hands held in front of him and his head bowed, staring at the obsidian below him, dried blood still stuck to it.

He deserved this. He _did._

_(He had to. This torture, this punishment he was bearing for actions he couldn’t remember had to be for something._

_He couldn’t be here for nothing. He couldn’t be alive for no reason._

_He must deserve this, for there is no other option.)_

* * *

Dream wasn’t sure how long it had been, he’d run out of room on his wall, and the other walls were already covered in blood. He couldn’t use them.

Nightmare was gone. Had been for a while. It was just Dream, alone in the cell with his thoughts.

_(He hated how he still sat there, unmoving as his skin burned and his legs cramped and his shoulders tensed. Even when it was gone, its influence still held Dream captive._

_He hated how abandoned he felt. How small the cell made him feel, how he fucking missed the dreamon he had grown so accustomed to._

_He hated how he craved any contact, no matter how much it hurt, or how terrible he felt after. He needed it._

_He wasn’t allowed to hold himself. To grab his arms as if he were being hugged, to close his eyes and pretend he wasn’t alone in this cell, in this world._

_The last time he had tried, Nightmare tore the nails off of each of his fingers, claws tearing at the skin of his hands as Dream sat there, muffling his sobs as blood pooled beneath him._

_“You don’t deserve the comfort,” it had said as it tore another nail from him, “not even from yourself.”_

_Dream nodded in blind acceptance. Anything to make the pain stop._

_He wasn’t even sure if he deserved that. Comfort, a life without pain, a life of freedom, those were all things good people got._

_And Dream, according to the dreamon, was as bad as they came._

_Who was he to argue?)_

Dream felt tears gathering in his eyes, spilling over the edges as he knelt there, the back of his shirt shredded and coated with dried blood from when he had spoken out of turn.

_(“If you didn’t mess up, I wouldn’t have to do this,” it said, tearing into his flesh as Dream begged it to stop, “you have no one to blame but yourself.”)_

“What did I say about crying, Dreamie?” it said, and Dream startled at its voice.

_When had it gotten here? Had Dream really been that blind? Had he truly lost all grip on reality? He didn’t know, he didn’t know he wasn’t sure oh god is his mind failing? it’s all he has left please let him keep his sanity it’s the only part of himself he has any more oh god-_

Nightmare stepped in front of Dream, crouching down in front of him, its bloodstained fingers coming up to wipe Dream’s cheeks.

_(His wrist still aches in pain, the bone shattered from where those same hands had gripped it, squeezing until the bone snapped._

_“You don’t get to move until I let you.”_

_He had just adjusted his shirt. That’s all he did. He hadn’t tried to escape, or run, or kill himself. Please, he hadn’t meant to break the rules._

_That didn’t matter to Nightmare though. None of it did._

_Every action was an act of rebellion in its eyes, and that couldn’t stand._

_Rebellion required punishment, and it really was Dream’s fault. He shouldn’t have moved, he knew the rules._

_He knew the game, had played it many times, even if he wasn’t always aware they had begun. He was a fast learner._

_It was Dream’s fault. It always was.)_

Dream waited for the strike. He waited for the spiteful words, spat at him without a moment's rest, giving him no time to argue, to fight back, to reassure himself that it wasn’t true. It _couldn’t_ be.

He squeezed his eyes shut, accepting his fate, knowing he was powerless to stop it.

But it never came.

Instead of the hit he was expecting, he felt a warm pair of hands pulling him towards them, free of blood, holding him firmly, but with care.

Dream flinched back from the touch, hands coming up to shield his face.

“Dream?” he heard whoever sat before him ask, but he paid it no mind, focusing on the fact that he had just moved his hands.

He just moved his fucking hands.

“Please,” he begged, his throat dry and voice broken, “I didn’t mean to move, I’ll put them back, just like it never happened, just please don’t break my wrist again I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry-”

His pleading was cut off by a pair of arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer.

“Shhh, it’s okay duckling,” someone said, and he flinched as a hand touched his still bleeding back before quickly withdrawing, the sound of someone vomiting a distant sound as he focused on whoever was holding him.

Dream looked up, blinking slowly as he finally _saw_ the cell around him.

It was filled with the people he once knew, a few new faces throughout the crowd, all staring at him, guilt and fear and disgust and anger burning in their eyes, Nightmare nowhere to be seen.

He turned to face whoever was holding him, and he nearly sobbed at the familiar sight, body sagging as he finally relaxed into her embrace, clutching tightly to the back of her shirt.

“Mom,” he breathed out, burying his face in her shoulder, staining the fabric with tears and blood and sweat as he clung to her.

“I’m here duckling,” she said, hands rubbing his legs as he pulled himself closer to her, curling around her as he sobbed, “you’re gonna be okay, we’re getting you out now, you’re going home.”

“You hate me,” he cried, clinging to her for as long as he could, before she was inevitably taken from him, because he didn’t deserve comfort, he didn’t deserve his mother or the kindness she offered him.

“No duckling,” she soothed, placing a kiss on the side of his head despite the blood and sweat that coated it, “we could never hate you. Never. We’re so sorry we didn’t realize sooner, we should have known.”

A potion was pressed against his lips, and Dream whined, fearing the worst.

“It’s alright,” someone said, and when he looked up at the new person, he was met with Sam’s concerned eyes gazing down at him. “It’s just a weakness potion, to help numb the pain.”

Dream stared at Sam for a moment, drinking in the sight of the friend he thought he would never see again, relishing in the comfort he never thought he would have again, before opening his mouth and swallowing a few mouthfuls of the potion.

He could feel his body go numb and his eyelids start to fall, blinking slowly as he tried to stay awake. He wasn’t allowed to sleep. He didn’t get that luxury.

“It’s okay,” Puffy said, wiping his tears away, “you can rest Dream. We have you.”

Dream let his head fall back onto her shoulder, his eyes shutting immediately.

He drifted off to sleep, held gently in his mother’s arms, finally home after years of waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> :)
> 
> THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONESHOT AND HAVE WAY MORE COMFORT I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENEDGHFGJHBFGBHFDBHFG
> 
> anyways chapter two coming eventually, but i hope you enjoyed the first part!! I had this idea and could not rest until I wrote it. I'm really excited to write the aftermath of this, but it may take a lil while agdfhjfdbhjfdgf
> 
> ALSO just a general note, in this au Dream knew Puffy from before any of the SMP happens, so that's why he knows her just in case you were confused bc like she would've showed up after he got Got, that's why he knows her
> 
> thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed!! if u liked it pls consider leaving a comment/kudos bc i will heart eyes at you, and also check me out on insta @ caydiink if ur interested :)
> 
> tysm and ily guys <33 stay safe


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